


in want of a study partner

by mitsuboo



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, besties in love, wholesome fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsuboo/pseuds/mitsuboo
Summary: "Man, I saw Byleth in Environmental Science yesterday, and I watched her drink like... eight Red Bulls in the span of 30 minutes," Sylvain pushed the wrapper back on his burrito, biting the end off and continuing to speak with his mouth full, "She's an inspiration to us all, dude. I wish I was that cool."Dimitri agreed with a thoughtful nod, though the downing of energy drinks was not particularly what inspired him about Byleth. There were not enough minutes in the day for him to declare what he liked about her, it was a pining so deep that he found himself searching for excuses simply to be near her.If only she would feel the same.[ Modern day college au in which Byleth is an oblivious mess, Dimitri hides his identity as a prince, and the entire study group knows how much they like each other]
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 43
Kudos: 246





	1. Please Please Me

_I don't want to sound complaining_   
_But you know there's always rain in my heart_   
_I do all the pleasing with you it's so hard to reason_   
_With you, whoa yeah, why do you make me blue?_

\- "Please Please Me" The Beatles

A journalist and scholar once quoted, quite famously, 'There comes a time in every man's life when he's consumed by the desire to spit on his palms, hoist the black flag, and start cutting throats'. Dimitri, in his studies, had come upon this quote before and not thought much of it, never being quite a man of outward shows of passion that was encouraged. Yet, in this time of his life, as he stared at the back of Byleth's head - he thought that he could finally begin to understand. 

His desire, the consuming of his very being by said desire. _Byleth_ _Eisner_. 

How could he ever hoist the black flag and start cutting throats? Grab her by the waist and dip her low, kiss her passionately and then scream his love from the rooftops? As tempting as the thought was, it would most likely end with him being punched, laying on the ground in pain. It simply was not realistic. 

He grimaced. Looking back down at the phone in front of him, he stared at the quote. Sylvain had pinned it onto his pinterest, and Dimitri had merely come across it in boredom. It was wrong to scroll on his phone during a lecture, but dear lord, he _hated_ Biology. 

Turning off his screen, it flashed dark and reflected his face staring down into it. He noticed Ingrid watching him from the corner of her eye, and she nodded in satisfaction upon seeing him turn his diversions off. He avoided her gaze, attempting to feign interest in the professor's lecture. 

It was incredibly odd, and incredibly unfair, that the back of Byleth Eisner's head proved to be so distracting. He had never found his attention so easily captured by something as simple as a messy, dark haired bun tied with a pink ribbon. His eyes trailed down to where loose hairs hung around the back of her neck, hairs that would so perfectly fit around his finger, if he could only have the chance to curl them around it. And a neck so perfectly made for kissing. It was sinful.

His phone lit, catching his eye. A text from Sylvain flashed upon the screen, and he squinted upon reading it. 'you're whipped. pay attention'

To his left, several seats away, the culprit was sending him a wolfy grin, and a wink. Dimitri refused to look at him. 

To hell with Ingrid and Sylvain's scoldings. To hell with biology. He kept his eyes on his textbook, drumming his pencil upon it's pages and watching the clock tick by. Two seats in front of him Byleth took notes furiously on her laptop, ever the hard worker. 

After what seemed like ages, Professor Hanneman finished his long winded lecture. Dimitri, not usually one to zone out, was surprised as his fellow students began to gather themselves together and stand from their benched seating areas. Pushing himself to action, he closed his book and stood as well, avoiding Sylvain's eyes. 

There was no time for being cowardly under the watchful eye of his friend, he had a routine to carry out, and by the Gods he would carry it. 

"Byleth, allow me." 

She blinked at him, her expression unreadable. Other students filed past her as she stood in the aisle, large textbooks clutched to her chest. After seeming to process what he had offered, her face fell into a subtle look of exasperation. "You don't have to do this every time."

"I'm willing to help take the load off your shoulders," he explained, stealing her heavy books from her arms and sending her a friendly smile, "You work so hard as it is."

She looked away in thought, "Well, my back hasn't been hurting nearly as much lately. So thank you, I guess."

That was enough reward for him. The books were nearly weightless in his arms anyhow, and upon carrying them he would have the opportunity to walk at her side whereever she went. She began to flit through the crowd, making her way out of the lecture hall. He followed her like a lost puppy. 

Garreg Mach university would never fail to amaze him. The ceilings were high and antiquely carved, with great sparkling chandeliers that floated like diamond clouds overhead. The lecture halls where the classes and lectures took place were dome shaped, with dark wooden benches and tables following the curves of the room, surrounding the professors drawing board and desk in the middle. The hallways, always filled with people, never seemed crowded. The walls had been decorated with portraits of professors and famous students of the past. His own father's portrait had been hung in the Faerghus History hall, next to grandfather's, which was next to his great grandfather's, and so on. 

Despite it's status as the most elite college in all of Fodlan, the students were the same type as one would find in any community college. As he followed Byleth, he caught sight of Caspar skateboarding down the hallway, his sweats baggy and his shirt nonexistant, expecting the students to step aside for him. Dimitri stepped aside as well, and looked over his shoulder just in time to catch him skating headfirst into a wall. A chorus of groans emitted from the crowd, followed by several laughs. 

"He still hasn't figured out how to turn," Byleth informed, still walking, "He'll get it soon enough."

"I certainly hope so." 

The conversation was small, but comfortable. Dimitri clutched her books to his side, and thought of the quote he had seen. His black flag, his throat cutting - how could he take appropriate action to let Byleth know how he felt? To fulfill his desire?

He followed her through the large wooden doors, basking in the sunlight as it hit him. Faerghus was cold even in the summer, so the warmth of central Fodlan where the college was located was a welcome change. The grass of the courtyard was green and mowed neatly, with several students sunbathing upon it. Byleth led him down the sidewalk, glancing over her shoulder at him, "Are you coming to the study group tonight?"

He smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." 

Satisfied with his answer, she took the place beside him so she could match his pace as they walked. He reminded himself to slow down so she could keep up, her legs being quite a bit shorter than his. 

"I might help Mercie make cookies," she mused, "those ones with cranberries. You like those, right?"

He couldn't taste one thing from the other, yet he nodded anyhow. "They're fine."

"But are they _good_?" She waved her hands around, as if that would help make her point even moreso, "They have to be _good_ to help us study better."

He shrugged, "I think no matter what kind of cookie I eat, I'll still fail biology."

"I don't understand how you could fail biology, of all things," she shook her head, the shadows from the trees passing over her face as they walked, "it's literally the easiest class ever."

It wasn't that Dimitri had trouble grasping it, it was more the fact that he simply didn't find it interesting. Perhaps it would've been more interesting if Byleth hadn't of worn that loose tanktop and treated him to the sight of her bare back through out the entire lecture. 

He felt like such a pervert. He had never been this way before. In Fhirdiad his days had consisted of home schooling, riding horses, and avoided the paparazzi. He now felt like a stereotypical hormonal college boy, lusting after a girl upon seeing just an inch of her skin. He couldn't help but grow a distaste for himself at his own thoughts. 

"I just don't click with it," he explained, half lying, "I'm only taking it for credits."

She sent him a rare, subtle smile. He basked in it's warmth. 

"Well, after studying with me tonight, you'll absolutely love biology. You'll eat, drink, and breathe it." She challenged, stopping in front of the double doors of the history and literature hall and holding her hands out.

He relinquished the books back into her arms, returning her smile for one of his own, "You promise?"

"I do indeed, Mr. Dimitri whatever your last name is. You haven't told me yet, isn't that weird? Not telling your friends your last name?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "but I still won't."

"Huh..." She glanced at the doors, "Do you have a class in here?"

"Oh," he forced himself to focus, to take his eyes off of her and to look at the building with the stream of students flooding in, "No, I don't have anymore classes for the day, actually."

"Your dorm is all the way over there," she nodded to the West, the opposite direction of where they had walked.

He blinked, "Yes?"

"You walked half a mile across campus just to carry my books?"

"Yes, and?"

Her nose scrunched, her eyes narrowing in the most lovely way possible. "Weird."

He couldn't help but smile. Byleth was difficult to read, and it proved even more difficult to be able to tell when she was joking. Dimitri was beginning, to, though, and it delighted him when he could read between the lines of her expressions, and know when to laugh at her serious-faced jokes. "Just being..."

He faltered, his good spirits falling. 

What _was_ he being?

"A good friend." She finished for him, patting his shoulder lightly, "You're a wonderful friend. Thank you."

Any sort of positivity that dwelled within him fell to the floor, shattering onto the ground in a million tiny, sharp, broken pieces. He could only give her a stiff, fakely pleasant nod. 

She was oblivious, or just very good at hiding how she felt. He had not yet become the master at reading her, it seemed, and could not even begin to tell what she was thinking as she turned around to join the flood of students entering the building.

A friend, a wonderful friend.

He would accept it, of course, but the acceptance wouldn't keep his heart from clutching in anxiety. 

With a loud, annoyed groan that startled several passersby, he turned on his heel, and shuffled back to his dorm. 

* * *

"Did you see what Bernadetta posted? She's, like... weirdly hot."

Dimitri found that he didn't really care.

Sylvain held the phone screen up to him, despite the utter lack of interest on his friend's face. Dimitri squinted at the blurry photo of the odd girl from his historical economics class. He had never quite noticed her, except for the time when she had read her essay on the Adrestian Salt Mining War to the lecture hall, and burst into a waterfall of tears halfway through. In the photo on her Instagram, she was blurry, but looking wide eyed and doll-like as she sipped coffee from a cat shaped mug. The caption read 'rainy day' with a heart emoji.

He looked at Sylvain past his phone, "I don't think she's trying to be cute."

Offended, he pulled back, "Of course she is! She's a thot!"

Felix groaned from his place at the study desk, head resting in his hand, "How many times have I told you to stop talking like a complete jackass? A million. But here you are doing it again."

"You don't like that word?" He challenged, "Thot? You don't like the word thot? Thot. Thot. Thot."

"Shut up before I kill you."

"Every woman's a _thot_!"

As Felix launched a stapler at him, Dimitri could only wonder what that word meant. He had no idea, and if Sylvain had ever explained it, he'd obviously forgotten. He sighed, covering his eyes and trying to tune out his roommates fighting each other over interenet lingo. 

His voice cut through the chaos, "Could we please talk about something else?"

Felix scowled, letting go of Sylvain's collar and backing away, "Oh, like what? Your crush on miss sweatpants and dirty Nikes?"

"Her Nikes are not that dirty."

"They're _filthy_ ," he spat, sitting down at his desk and returning to his computer. Sylvain could only nod, agreeing nonverbally and earning a look of contempt from Dimitri. He oepned the mini fridge, and dug out a half eaten burrito wrapped in shiny silver foil. 

"I'm more of an Adidas man myself," Sylvain bit into his cold food, "but I guess that just means I have class."

Dimitri was not usually one to use violence in retaliation against his roommates, yet Sylvain was sitting on the end of his bunkbed in the absolute, most perfect spot. He lifted his leg and delivered a swift kick to Sylvain's side, making him lurch forward in pain and drop his burrito onto the ground. 

Satisfying, utterly satisfying. That was one desire that was being fulfilled, at least, and far more in line with the hoisting of flags and cutting of throats. 

"You ass!" He cried, scrambling to chase after his rolling burrito. Finally, he caught it upon the rug, and gingerly picked a few small hairs off the top. 

"That's gross."

He shrugged, "I'm poor right now. Can't afford anymore food."

Dimitri knew that he would rather starve than ask his father for money, Sylvain's spite was legendary. Feeling just the slightest bit twinge of guilt at kicking him, he attempted to change the subject, "How did you enjoy your classes?"

Sylvain lit up pleasantly, the scowl gone. "Man, I saw Byleth in Environmental Science yesterday, and I watched her drink like... eight Red Bulls in the span of 30 minutes," he pushed the wrapper back on his burrito, biting the end off and continuing to speak with his mouth full, "She's an inspiration to us all, dude. I wish I was that cool."

Dimitri agreed with a thoughtful nod, though the downing of energy drinks was not particularly what inspired him about Byleth. There were not enough minutes in the day for him to declare what he liked about her, it was a pining so deep that he found himself searching for excuses simply to be near her. 

If only she would feel the same.

_"You're a wonderful friend."_

Her words would not leave him alone. He grimaced, and rolled over in his bed, burying his face into his pillow. "Maybe I'm reading too deeply into it," he began, voice muffled, "but I think she was trying to tell me something today."

"What?" Sylvain loved a good gossip moment, and even Felix had halted the typing on his laptop to listen. 

He conjured the will to even speak of it, his stomach churning with anxiety. "She said... that I was a wonderful friend."

Silence. A light, amused huff from Sylvain. "Uh... you _are_ a good friend. At least to her." He nearly pouted as he rubbed his side where he'd been kicked.

"I think that she was trying to tell me that she wants to be just friends. W-Which is fine! Just... disappointing."

Felix was silent. Sylvain was silent. A look passed between them. Dimitri lifted his head to watch his roommate's silent communication in confusion.

Finally, Sylvain nodded, and turned his attention back to the distraught man before him. He patted the back of his leg, "You know... Byleth is really smart, but she's also, like... kinda dumb? If you get what I mean?"

He narrowed his eyes, "No, I don't."

"She's just not really... well..."

Felix, having taken several psychology courses and believing himself an expert when the situation called for it, interjected, "She has no interpersonal intelligence."

That didn't sit well. Dimitri now sat up, ready and willing to defend his dear lady love, "She's very compassionate! And she's very caring for others!"

Sylvain grimaced, "She's oblivious as hell. Yesterday I saw her trying to comfort Annette-"

Felix perked up, a fire lighting in his eyes, "What happened to Annette?"

"I-I don't know, dude, that's not the important part-"

" _What_ _happened_?"

"I'm trying to make a point here, and you're ruining it. Jeez," He rolled his eyes, "a _nyway_ , so Annie was crying and all, and Byleth was talking to her, and then she just... she just gets up, goes to the dorm kitchen, and literally just bakes a potato in the microwave. I'm like, okay okay, so she's making Annie some food, that's cool, but then Byleth comes back and sits beside Annie, who's _still_ crying, and then just... she just eats the potato, no butter, no salt, nothing! Annie's still bawling, and she's just sitting there eating a bland potato like it's an apple. What the hell? Not to mention the party last week-"

Dimitri tensed, "Please don't talk about the party last week."

He was going to talk about the party last week. "She bought a whole bottle of wine, and sat in the corner, and drank the entire thing straight from the bottle, by herself. Who does that?"

He shifted in place, uncomfortable with the evidence being presented before him. "She offered me some and I had a drink or two from it..."

"Oh, your mouths both touched the same bottle," Sylvain's eyes were wide, mocking, "You practically _kissed!"_

"You're not funny."

Felix was typing furiously at his phone, hunched over the screen and scowling, "I can't believe Annette didn't come find me when she was crying."

"You're so weird," Sylvain was in a tizzy now, worked up from his stories, "Why would she come see you?"

"So I can make fun of her."

"You're a sadist!"

"It's our agreement."

"It's creepy!"

Dimitri, choosing to not acknowledge the conversation, mused outloud, "Perhaps if I send a bouquet of flowers to every class she takes, then she'll realize my feelings..."

Sylvain leveled him with a flat stare, chewing once again on his fuzzy burrito, his mouth full, "Don't do that. It'll embarrass her."

"I have to agree with the idiot," Felix said, eyes still on his phone, "she'll hate you. Well, maybe it's a good idea. If she hated you then I might get a break from hearing about her."

"When do we get a break from hearing about Annette?" Sylvain challenged.

"When I shove your head into your ass so far that you can't hear a thing."

"That sounds fun."

"Please be quiet," Dimitri rolled over in bed, letting his arm dangle off the side lazily, "Is it 9 yet?"

"No, it's 8:30."

9:00 p.m. on Thursdays were tradition. It was when the study group would meet in their designated corner of the library. It also was where he had first spoken to Byleth, where he had first noticed her smile, her dedication, and her hard work. He waited for every Thursday to arrive, and would attend the study sessions even when exhausted. 

It was interesting, having a group of friends that he would meet with on the regular. It was something he'd never experienced before, and he was eating it up as if he was starved. In Fhirdiad, he had never gotten much of a chance to make friends. 

It was truly amazing that nobody had recognized him yet. He supposed he had his uncle's shrewd care to thank for that. The palace walls were high, heavily guarded, and if anybody managed to get a picture of him for their magazines or news articles, it always tended to be blurry. He felt like Bigfoot, really, only being seen by the public when he wanted to be. 

Either Felix and Sylvain never paid attention to the news, or he looked drastically different on camera. Dimitri would not complain about the lack of recognition, though, living as a normal person was something he'd always desired. Hardly anybody even knew that the Prince of Faerghus was attending Garreg Mach, and he preferred to keep it that way. 

Dedue, the lucky one, had manged to get a room across from his. He shared with Ashe, blessed with a quiet roommate. Dimitri could trust in his life long friend, the only one that knew of his true identity and origin. Dedue could keep a secret to his grave if asked to. 

Sylvain finally finished off his burrito, crumpling the wrapper and doing a basketball toss to the wastebin nearby. It bounced off the edge, and he threw his head back in annoyance before standing up to throw it away properly. As he did so, his teasing filled the room, "What're you and Byleth going to study together?"

"Biology," he sighed, "she's determined to help me pass. And it's the only class we really have together."

"It's not like you don't see each other enough," he rolled his eyes, "you go to lunch together constantly."

"I like to buy her food," he defended, "if she keeps living off ramen she won't be able to function."

"Do you have a sugar daddy kink?"

"A what, _what_?"

"Sylvain," Felix warned, his voice low, "Don't."

"Fine," he held his hands up, shaking his head, "I won't. I'll let the innocent boy learn on his own."

Tired of being confused and condescened, Dimitri stood from his spot on his bed. He looked into the hanging mirror beside the door, attempting to smooth back his hair and make himself a touch more presentable. "I'm going to head to the library early."

"Hoping to catch some alone time with her?"

That would be nice, of course, but he knew that she would be late to the study group that night due to her last class being taught by the drawn out and long winded Professor Seteth. It would be nice for him to simply escape the confines of Sylvain's teasing, and Felix's complaining. "I'll make sure Ingrid doesn't eat all the cookies before you get there."

"Thanks man," Sylvain shot him a finger gun, "You're totes the bestest, bro."

"I wish you'd stop talking like that."

In response, he only stuck his tongue out. Felix rolled his eyes, returning to tapping wildly on his laptop and ignoring his roommates. Dimitri opened the door, leaving without an acknowledgement of being dubbed 'totes the best'. He should've been used to the lingo of his peers by now, yet it was very much different from what he grew up hearing. Seeing another person his age in the Fhirdiad palace and at political events was a rarity, and even then he rarely got the chance to speak to anybody that was. 

He made his way across campus and to the large library. It was, and continued to be, his favorite building in the entire college. 

Dimitri was not very much of a book worm, having too much restless energy to ever sit down and read for long, though he wished he would force himself to dedicate more time to it. While growing up, he had played rugby and soccer endlessly, fenced and practiced hand to hand combat, all with the intent of working out some of his energy and strength into something physical. Most mornings, he jogged through campus - and Sylvain accused him of hoping to catch Byleth while she jogged as well. 

Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he _was_ hoping to see Byleth, and perhaps Sylvain's jest was true. Yet, he would never admit it. 

The library was large, tall and covered from wall to wall with books. The floors and tables were always cleaned and polished, and Dimitri loved the smell of leather that filled the air. He made his way to the back table where the group would meet in about 15 minutes, passing by Lindhart and the sizable pool of drool forming on the table where he slept. 

Dimitri took a seat at the empty table, and waited. Time alone with his thoughts was not usually a welcome occurrence, yet tonight it seemed his mind was being kind to him. He thought of Byleth, of last week's party at Lorenz's parent's house, of the bitter taste of cheap beer on his tongue. 

He had spent most of the night beside Byleth, in the corner where she sat on the floor, her bottle of wine that she brought only for herself - and for the occassional sip for Dimitri to take. She had her hair down, a black beanie over the top, and black pants with a rip in the knee. She proclaimed that the rip was naturally made when she had tripped over her roommate's cat. It was not a particularly glorious story, but Byleth tended to find pride and amusement in the little things. 

Another thought leaked into his mind, a drop of dye in an otherwise clear pool. He buried his face in his arms, and shut his eyes. 

Byleth Eisner. Fruit wine perfuming her breath. Her lips so close to his. Her nose brushing against his cheek. 

Him throwing up in front of her on the floor. 

Her laughing drunkenly. 

Mortification, and sopping wet paper towels as he scrambled to clean it. 

"I'm never drinking again," he muttered, opening his eyes and staring at the fake wood patterns on the table, "Never in my life."

"You really can't hold your liquor, huh Dima?"

Startled at the sudden sound of another voice, he nearly jumped and fell out of his seat. Tense, he jerked his head up to find Mercedes and Annette standing over him. Mercedes held a plate of cookies, while Annette covered her mouth with a giggle, most likely amused at the wild mutterings from their fellow classmate.

"I-I didn't hear you arrive," he explained, loosening his shoulders and watching as she set the plate on the table, "you scared me."

"Oh, we were here for a while..."

Annette snorted, "Yeah, we thought you were dead."

He obviously was not, as he was breathing perfectly. Upon being teased, his gaze fell flat, and he made a playful noise of disapproval. "It's not very nice to eavesdrop."

"I'm sorry," Mercedes took the seat across from him, "We just didn't want to disturb you, in case you were taking a nap. But then I heard you say something about drinking, and, well..."

Mercedes never drank. She had spent the whole party sipping on lemonade and watching the chaos with a cheerful smile. She was the perfect designated driver, and even had helped Dimitri fit into the back of her car after he had vomitted. A true angel, and a good friend to have. He was glad to have her around. 

He waved his hand, "It's fine, really. Do you know when the others will arrive?"

Annette frowned, staring over Dimitri's shoulder and keeping her gaze stony, level and calm. "I do not... I don't even _know_ anybody else. Especially not jerk-faces with black hair and stupid weird ponytails. I have never met such a man in my life."

Dimitri paused. Just 15 minutes ago in the dorm Felix was scrambling to text Annette. Her phone pinged, and her expression wavered. Yet another text had arrived, and she ignored it, keeping her composure. 

Mercedes sighed, "They're fighting again."

"Over?"

"Felix's cat killed her fish," her voice grew low, to a whisper as she leaned across the table, "and he hasn't even apologized yet."

Now, the red haired girl was furious, small fists clenched as she whipped around to face Mercedes with a passion. "You understand, don't you? He's evil! Him and that cat both! He just _laughed_ at me, 'that fish was going to die anyway, why do you even have a fish, you can't even pet it?' I hate him! I _hate_ him!"

Annette happened to be one of the few who lived alone in her own apartment, not even at a dorm room in the college. Her uncle paid her rent regularly so she could focus on her studies, and she was sure to graduate as top of the class with how dedicated she was. Weeks ago, Felix had found a cat in an alleyway, and gave it to his almost-girlfriend to take care of, due to no pets being allowed in the dormitories. Dimitri himself had been quite wary of the cat as well, finding it's dark hair and grumpy countenance far too close to Felix's personality to be comfortable with.

As Annette ranted and raved, Dimitri caught sight of the said villian, along with Sylvain, entering the library. Dimitri sent them a wave, and Annette gasped, whipping over her shoulder to eye her almost-boyfriend as he approached. 

"I think..." her voice was high, fakely arrogant, "I will go study over there. Away from that _miscreant_."

"This is serious," Mercedes whispered, gathering her books up to go join Annette, "I don't know if she'll ever recover."

Oblivious, Dimitri only stared, "It's just a fish."

"Don't say that! Fish have souls too!" She scolded, huffing lightly, "I have to agree with Annie, men are just heartless, apathetic losers sometimes."

Dimitri didn't _feel_ like such a thing. Mercedes retreated to Annette's table, and Felix and Sylvain approached slowly, unaware of the chaos that had ensued. He glanced at them, "I'm apparently a heartless, apathetic loser."

"Yep," Felix grimaced, refusing to look at Annette, who's glares were like daggers being thrown across the library, "I am too."

Dimitri only sighed, resting his cheek in his palm and staring at the pile of books beside him. He could easily open one and begin reading, perhaps even retain information, doing what he had came here to do. Yet, his mind was entirely elsewhere, and there were cookies in front of him that were entirely too tempting.

Sylvain had already taken one, chewing and moaning in the loudest way possible. Annette continued to glare, Felix continued to ignore it, and Mercedes simply studied her textbook, the wall of peace stuck between two wars taking place across the library. Dimitri stole a cookie off the plate, and thought of Byleth.

Only 15 more minutes until her class got out.

Until then, he would do what he did best concerning his stay at the University.

Procrastinate, and daydream about holding her hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some modern Fodlan tidbits that I've made! 
> 
> \- Byleth is the same age as Dimitri
> 
> \- They're like 19
> 
> \- SYLVAIN WEARS THAT ICONIC AHEGAO HOODIE AND NO, I AM NOT TAKING CRITICISM
> 
> \- Bernadetta is an E-girl. She is not aware of this, and just makes angsty Instagram posts of herself unironically, and her followers go wild. She’s innocent, and never reads her comments. She is not a thot.
> 
> \- Felix is a streamer, it was Sylvains idea. He forgets he’s on stream and just yells at the game. He only plays final fantasy, and complains about it the entire time. 
> 
> \- Felix and Annette are Almost Boyfriend/Girlfriend. Almost. Not quite.
> 
> \- Garreg Mach University is like an Ivy League college
> 
> \- Dimitri is unaware of the world of the internet. The only picture on his personal Instagram is of his dog back home. It has no caption.
> 
> \- He has a press team that runs his Twitter, they work tirelessly to not let the news people know he’s at a college out of Faerghus
> 
> \- Mercedes hosts the midnight college radio station. She tells ghost stories inbetween songs. Her music choices range from obscure classical pieces, to mainstream pop.
> 
> \- Byleth is very cool, but at the same time she's also very lame
> 
> \- Dimitri dresses very nicely and is like what you would expect from an ivy league college boy, he has many different blazers, but does not understand fashion or why Lorenz tries to talk to him about designer brands. He doesn't care.
> 
> \- Felix's cat is named Felix. Annette named him. Felix calls him 'Cat'
> 
> \- Ashe and Dedue cook for a lot of their classmates and are both very well loved
> 
> \- Ingrid is that horse girl we all know. She wears a hoodie with a horse's face on it. Marianne has the same hoodie, and it's really embarrassing.
> 
> \- Byleth still returns everybody's lost items
> 
> \- Lorenz throws parties a lot, and then complains about everybody destroying his parent's house, yet he still throws him. He just won't learn.


	2. Runner

_Runner  
I know you're living with a wild hunger  
Let me make the most of us  
You know you'll never be a runner  
And leave me in a cloud of dust_

"Runner" - Tennis

The girls, now including Ingrid, had absconded to a table far from the boys, tearing apart the study group based upon gender. Dedue and Ashe had questioned it briefly upon their arrival, and had only received a chorus of shrugs from their fellow students. Nobody wanted to acknowledge the anxiety inducing, and rather intimidating, whispers and glances that came from the girl’s table across the library.

Women in groups were intimidating enough, yet women in a group that erupted into giggles and hushed whispers as they stared at you? It even made Dedue a bit uncomfortable. 

Sylvain, though, was an expert at blissful ignorance. He was not one to be shaken by the scorn of a woman, and was the only man at peace at the table. Lazily, and unbothered, he scrolled on his phone.

Across the library, Ingrid’s pocket buzzed with a text. She checked it, then proceeded to send Sylvain a stony glare. He only smirked. 

Byleth had yet arrive from her lecture, and Dimitri could only hope that she would be the uniting force between the Blue Lion group. If anybody had the power to bridge the gap, it was Byleth Eisner. Everybody wanted to study with her, to rack her brain for the uncommon and intuitive answers that she always provided.

Dedue kept his eyes on his book, ever the studious type. He was not the most prolific reader, but he enjoyed it, and had taken to college life wonderfully. He sat at the end of the table, next to Ashe, who wrote notes in his book furiously. They were the only focused ones of the group, the only ones actually taking the studying seriously - despite the glares from the girl

“It was just a fish,” Felix grumbled darkly, “this is so freaking dumb.”

Dimitri couldn’t help but agree, but then again he’d never been the owner of a fish. Perhaps he didn’t understand the emotional connection between human and sea-creature. 

Sylvain, choosing to feign unawareness of the tension in the room, lifted his head to eye Dimitri. “When she’s gonna get here? I’m tired of waiting.”

Ferdinand, who had taken a seat at the other end of the table, nodded, “Yes, when will she? ...Who is she?”

“Dude, why are you even here?”

He cleared his throat formally, as if what he was about to explain was incredibly important, “I’m waiting for my friends, Sylvain Gautier, thank you very much. I simply did not want to be alone as I waited.” With that decree, he gingerly picked up his pink boba tea and sucked at the straw. The crackle from the bottom of the cup made Dimitri tense in irritation, resisting the urge to glare. 

Tossing his head back in annoyance, Felix rolled his eyes at the ceiling rafters high above, “Some of us are actually trying to focus here.”

“I don’t need to study,” Sylvain announced, ignoring Ferdinand, “I’m just here to watch loverboy flirt with By all night.”

His annoyance growing, Dimitri feigned interest in the textbook in front of him. Not even one word on the page was truly registered by his mind, with it being miles away, “I’ve no idea who you’re talking about.”

He snorted, "Man, don’t get me wrong, I’m also here to help you.”

Sylvain knew what bait to use, and how to dangle it just perfectly in front of Dimitri's nose. It was enough to catch his interest, if only slightly. He flicked his eyes up from the page, “ _Help_ me?”

He smirked, "You’re like a baby, Dima. Have you ever once been in a relationship?”

No.

“That’s not any of your business.”

Ashe sighed, “Leave him alone, Syl.”

“Nope, he’s gotta learn. Alright, listen,” he looked at his phone, scrolling up the screen and smiling, “I’m gonna put this song in the playlist. I want you to listen to it, and _think_.”

_The_ _Playlist_ , the holy grail of their friendship - aside from the Instagram group chat, of course. 

Sylvain had bullied Dimitri into paying for Spotify plus, of course, also convincing him to get the family plan and to add Sylvain onto it. Dimitri had never been much into music before, yet since coming to Garreg Mach and meeting his friends, he had been introduced to a wide variety of such things. It was how The Playlist was born. 

A collaborative melting pot of nonsense that every friend added to. It was glorious, and ever growing. Dimitri could pick out each song, who added what, and what that song choice said about their personality. It was one of the few things in his life that he'd ever shared between friends, and he treasured it's existence - no matter how odd it got. 

Ashe had a taste for soft acoustics, songs of sorrow, love and memories. Dimitri listened to them at night when he needed to sleep.

Felix contributed in a way Dimitri would not have predicted. He enjoyed stadium-like, big rock songs, with memorable solos and heavy instrumentals. He would listen to them while at the gym, and find himself drumming the beats on his desk during lectures. Felix himself could play a few guitar riffs on the dusty 12 string that he had stowed away in the dorm room closet, though only when he thought nobody was around to hear him. 

Dedue added nothing but one piece by Debussy. His mother had played it for him as a child on her antique piano, the only instrument in Dedue's house when growing up. His fingers remained too large and clumsy for the keys, but Dimitri would catch him humming the piece when cooking. 

Sylvain, the most well traveled of the group, added most of the songs. His contributions ranged from obscure indie to heavy rap, from oldies to incredibly silly parody songs. Dimitri had never thought such a variety existed, and appreciated having his ears opened to the different options set before him. 

Ingrid liked country. Dimitri forced himself to listen to it for her sake. 

There was the occasional alpine yodeling song, with a mix of folk, and some very Northern Faerghus highland tunes that included fiddles and bagpipes. Mercedes added those, and would frequently play them on her midnight radio station as well. Dimitri found them charming, reminding him of his heritage. 

Annette's contributions were the most normal, usually being just top 40's pop and Disney songs. He found himself appreciating them as he jogged in the morning, even humming along with the princess's as they sang.

Byleth was the only friend who had contributed nothing. Nobody pushed her to do so, and she feigned that she was much too busy to ever really listen to music. It was a shame, as Dimitri would’ve liked to discuss the playlist with her at some point. It was something new and exciting to him, a link between him and his friends that he’d never experienced before. He was finding that he was quite a lover of music, and desired to share the experience with her. 

Now, Sylvain was adding yet another song. Each addition had a meaning, a backstory as to why it was there. Dimitri opened his app to look at the playlist, scrolling to the end and eyeing the title with confusion. 

“No Scrubs?”

“Yes,” Sylvain, now determined, clasped his hands and leaned in, “Byleth don’t want no scrub.”

“What... is a scrub?”

Excited with having something to contribute, Ferdinand leaned forward, injecting himself with a clap of his hands, “Oh, I know this one! A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly!”

Encouraged, Sylvain waved his body in his seat, almost like a dance in place, “A scrub is a guy who can’t get no love from me! Hangin’ out the passenger side of his best friend’s ride, tryin’ to holler at me!" He nodded, "Now imagine Byleth instead. A scrub is a guy who can't get no love from _Byleth._ "

Felix paused. Dimitri paused. Dedue continued studying, ignoring it all. 

Across the library, Ingrid was squinting at Sylvain in confusion. The girl's table remained quiet. 

It just so happened that the only one who actually owned a car among them was Dimitri. He opened his mouth, pausing to process his words before continuing, “Weren’t you… just doing that yesterday?”

Politely, Ashe corrected, “Except you were in the backseat, Sylvain, not the passenger side.”

Offended, he scrambled, “That’s not- ugh, no that was _not_ the same thing!”

Felix raised his brows, “You were literally leaning out of Dimitri’s car, cat-calling a girl on the street!”

And Dimitri had nearly rolled the window up on Sylvain’s head too. He had gotten a lecture from Ashe on the implications of cat-calling, and he nearly turned the car around to go make Sylvain apologize to the poor girl. Now smiling in amusement at the gaping look on his face, he began to laugh, “It’s the pot calling the kettle black, I see.”

“She was hot, okay. It doesn't mean I'm a scrub..." retreating from the accusations, he turned in his chair so he wouldn't have to look at the amused expressions on his friend's faces, "And another thi- _oh_... Well, hello cutie.” The irritation on his face dissolved, melting into a half-smile that created a boyish dimple on his cheek. Sylvain's attention had been caught in an instance, stolen away by the woman entering the library. "She's hot too." 

Dimitri swore that his friend had a built in woman detector. Like a submarine radar that lit up whenever someone with two x chromosomes entered the room. It was fascinating, really, how quickly his moods changed. 

Yet, upon seeing who it was that Sylvain was distracted by, his smile fell, and he was kicking him harshly under the table, "Lower your voice!"

"What are you, the librarian?" He kicked back, making the table push and jump under them.

Ready to escape the chaos, Ferdinand stood from his seat and sent the table a charming smile as he gathered his books, “My friends are here, so I'll see you all later!”

The friends in question made their way to an empty table at the front of the library. Edelgard had her hair in a ponytail, and Hubert’s black jacket swept behind him like a cape. Dimitri leaned in closer to Sylvain and hissed, “Don’t say stuff like that. She’s got hearing like a dog.”

He swore that Edelgard glanced over her shoulder at him. He grimaced at the sight.

“Who?” Sylvain's nose scrunched in confusion, “Edelgard? How would you know?”

She was his step sister. Of course he would know. 

Uncomfortable, he leaned away, “Just keep quiet.” Across the room, Hubert sat across from her, and Dimitri could feel his dark gaze burning a hole in him. Ferdinand was chattering endlessly and leaning on their table, his words barely heard over the distance between them. 

Ashe seemed to grow smaller in his seat, looking like he wanted to melt as he whispered, “They both make me so nervous.”

Felix snorted, “It’s fine, Humbert just hasn’t grown out of his emo phase yet.” Dimitri wondered if Felix had said his name wrong on purpose, knowing that if he spoke loudly enough the black-clad man would hear. 

His glare proved dagger-like, sharp and dark. Not quite understanding what his problem was, Dimitri turned his attention away, forcing himself to focus on a much happier subject. He looked at the doors where Byleth would enter, knowing that in just a few more minutes, she would arrive in all her glory. The study group would be right again, nature realigning as it should be.

“Just listen to the song,” Sylvain mumbled, chastised, “it might teach you a thing or two about women.”

He would. He’d put his ear buds in tomorrow for his jog and give it a listen. Any new additions to the playlist were always welcome, though not always the best. 

As Dimitri stared at the door, waiting for Byleth, Annette skulked her way over. She circled the table like a shark, going to the other side where Felix was farthest away. Leaning over Dedue's shoulder, she stretched herself across the books and notepads, hand going straight for the plate of cookies, “Sorry, I just…” she reached, and reached. 

Immediately, Felix flicked his eyes to her. He grabbed the edge of the cookie plate just as her fingers brushed against the lip, and yanked the plate away before she could ever claim her prize. 

She gasped, offended, and dug her hand deeper into Dedue’s shoulder. As she stretched farther across the table, he only grimaced and leaned away so she could have more room. 

Felix, with a playful smirk - an expression one would only see when he was around Annette - scooted the plate further from her reach. 

“I hate you,” she hissed, her body nearly on top of the table, “You’re so evil, and mean, and rude, and-”

Dedue, tired of being leaned on, simply leaned forward and grabbed the plate. Felix scowled as he held it up for Annette. She pulled away, shyly claiming a cookie and holding it to her chest like a treasure, “Thank you. You’re a very good friend, Dedue.”

He sighed, and nodded to her, as if it was difficult to handle being in such an excitable group. Dimitri knew that it was for him, Dedue had never been the social type. “It’s… no problem.”

She scurried away, and Sylvain only snorted as he watched her retreat, “Maybe you need some coaching too Felix, you’ve really been pissing her off lately.”

It was in an instant that Felix blew up, smacking his hand on the table and standing. His chair made an ugly scraping sound against the tile floors, and he glared down at Sylvain, “Maybe you need me to kick your ass?”

“ _Kiss_ my ass, you say? Well, if you really want to.”

Ashe groaned, “Please, please, not another study night like this. I can’t take it anymore…”

Dedue grunted, “You’re bothering Ashe.”

“You’re bothering _me_.” Dimitri interjected, “Some of us are trying to study.”

“Your head is empty,” Sylvain hissed at him, barely dodging the first throw from Felix, “don’t pretend that you actually _care_ about studying, Dimitri!”

Satisfyingly, the second punch landed, sending Sylvain stumbling away. Dimitri silently cheered Felix on. 

He was almost _so_ overjoyed by watching his friends fight to the death, that he nearly didn’t notice Byleth entering the room. By this time, Felix had knocked him to the ground, kicking his side harshly as Sylvain covered his face. In retaliation, he grabbed his ankle, and pulled him down as well, making them both roll around like cats, kicking with their hind legs. Ingrid had brought her phone out, and was now recording the fight, while Ashe panicked and questioned if he should call for a teacher. 

Byleth looked at the boys wrestling, then she looked to the girl’s table. Annette was glowing with happiness, whether it be from seeing Felix get knocked down, or from her pride at her almost-boyfriend fighting so well. 

They were like animals, all of them. 

Byleth, her hair still in a messy bun, and her sweatpants rather baggy today, was brave enough to make her way across the library, and to simply step over the wrestling boys. Neither of them noticed, yet Dimitri’s attention was stolen instantly by her appearance.

His heart skipped. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re here.”

He sounded so dreamy. He wanted to hit himself over the head for it. 

“I’m here,” she did a quick curtsy, looking the slightest bit bashful as she took the seat Sylvain had been in. Right as she sat, the girls across the library gathered their books, and began filing their way to the usual table with the boys. Dimitri knew that she would bridge the gap, as she was the main motivator of the entire group. She looked over her shoulder at the wrestling boys, “Would you two knock it off? We’re going to try to study here.”

They froze. Felix had his hand around Sylvain’s neck. Sylvain’s hands held Felix’s arm to push him off. They both stared at Byleth with wide eyes, and quickly melted away from each other, pulling back to inspect their newfound bruises. Felix grunted and ran his fingers through his hair casually, ignoring the small stream of blood coming from his nose, “At least _someone_ is.”

"That's gross!" Annette cried, pulling a cloth handkerchief from her pocket and handing it to him. Felix took it, wiping off his face. It was obvious that Annette was resisting the urge to approach him with care, every inch of her body betraying how she felt.

Dimitri sat across from Byleth, though he found himself wishing to be next to her. Lately she’d been using a strawberry scented shampoo, and if he was just close enough he could smell it. 

He nearly scowled at his train of thought. He felt like a creep, like he needed to bleach his brain and stop being so irrevocably, undeniably infatuated with this girl. 

Annette took the seat beside her, and opened her thick textbook. She was cheerful now, still chewing on her stolen cookie from moments before. With her mouth full, she began in a very cheerleader-esque fashion, “ _Okay_ , so I’m doing my calculus homework tonight, and I was hoping someone would help me with this formula.”

Byleth, usually the one that was left to help others with homework, only blinked. She pursed her lips. Annette looked at her for help, yet Byleth only paused, then sighed, “I… hate calculus.”

“So do I,” she snorted, “but I still do it.”

Mercedes smiled, soft and sweet as she took the seat on the other side of Dedue, “You know who’s good at math?”

Felix. Felix was good at math. Dimitri watched the challenge pass between the two girls, Annette’s narrowed eyes and Mercedes sweet smile. Ingrid, sitting on the other side of Annette, only grimaced and shared a look of annoyance between herself and Ashe. 

Still on the floor behind the table, Sylvain was rolling up his pant leg, inspecting the new bruises forming. Felix had turned around to casually peruse the book shelves and hold the handkerchief to his nose, though Dimitri knew that his ears were piqued in interest to the conversation at hand. 

After a brief pause, Annette gave up, burying herself in her notes. "I'll figure it out myself."

With no further requests for help, Dimitri caught Byleth’s gaze across the table. He sent her a smile, “How was Professor Seteth today?”

“Fine,” she rolled her shoulders to release the tension, “He didn’t go on any tangents, so that’s nice.”

It was. Dimitri had Seteth for History class, and his personal opinions on the wars of the past never failed to light a fire in the man. Some lectures would be spent with him ranting over how dumb the tactics of each side were, and how _he_ would’ve led the armies if he’d been there. 

She continued, mindlessly tapping her pencil on a book page, “And I got to talk to my dad on the way here.”

“How’s he doing?” Dimitri had never met him, yet knew of him through Byleth’s stories. She tended to light up when speaking of her father. 

“He’s fine, just tired…” she paused in thought, “I think he’s stressed.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No,” she shook her head, “it’s just work. He’s gotten a lot more hours lately.”

Mr. Eisner - his first name was unknown to Dimitri - was the chief of the police in the area. While it was a relatively peaceful city in central Fodlan, it still had moments of unrest. Every time Dimitri drove through the streets and caught sight of a police squad car, he wondered if it was Byleth’s father behind the wheel. 

He was eager to meet him, to make contact, to possibly leave some sort of good impression on him if possible. Searching for something, anything, he went on, “I could take you and him to dinner.”

She seemed to melt in her seat, hunching her shoulders and crinkling her nose. Her voice lowered, and she leaned across the table to whisper, “You’ve really got to stop doing that.”

“What?” He whispered back, oblivious as to why she would be making the unreadable face she made.

“Stop being so… helpful.” She huffed.

“Helpful?”

“Helpful! Charming, genuine, sincere, kind. The list goes on,” she pulled away, rolling her eyes, “it’s so annoying.”

Unbeknownst to Byleth and Dimitri, who were caught in their own world, the entire table proceeded to silently make fun of them.

Next to her, Annette covered the side of her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked at Ingrid and mouthed ‘wow’ to her. Ingrid covered her smile, and Mercedes only grinned. Ashe laughed under his breath, as he leaned into Ingrid to pass a whisper. 

Felix, also caught up in his own thoughts, knew nothing of the oblivious flirting passing between Dimitri and Byleth, and looked over his shoulder to see Annette smiling. It was satisfying enough for him to move forward and pull a chair up between her and Ingrid, forcing the blonde woman to scoot over so he could fit.

Annette’s smile fell. Rather dramatically, she ignored him. Sylvain simply watched the group, all hope lost for the romantic intentions of his friends. 

Dimitri took no notice of the world around him, and only looked at Byleth. She had pulled away, sitting back in her chair casually and averting her eyes to the textbook. He stared, enraptured, “I’m sorry that I’m so annoying.”

Ashe was the one to snort in reply, speaking loudly enough for the table to hear, “It’s fine, we like you anyway.”

He was struck, breaking from his thoughts and taking in the smirks of the friends around him. “I-I wasn’t… Well,” he cleared his throat, “thank you, Ashe, I guess. But I wasn’t…”

“Yeah, yeah, when a certain someone’s here you don’t talk to anybody else, right?” Sylvain accused, his voice casual.

Byleth only furrowed her brows, confused, “Who’s that?”

“Who’s what?”

“Who’s the person you’re talking about?” She cocked her head, thoroughly confused, “Dimitri talks to me, so I don’t think he’s ignoring everybody.”

“No… ugh,” Sylvain buried his face into his hand, and even Dedue seemed amused at the exchange, “Yes, he does talk to you, that’s the point.”

“You’re not making sense,” she huffed, “I’m just gonna focus on biology.”

She was wonderful. Her responses, her mind, her dedication, all of it enchanted him. He leaned towards her, now ignoring an annoyed Sylvain, “You promised that you’d help me pass.”

She slid her book across the table, “I’ll only help you if you grab me a cookie.”

* * *

**  
**Dimitri had garnered an odd habit, as of late. A habit that he’d never thought would be a necessity.

“I’ll take all of these, thank you.”

The stack of magazines was large, and rather heavy. He left it on the counter of the gas station, as the attendant eyed him as if he was a crazy person. “Uh, sure…”

“Thank you.” He repeated, very formal with the worker. In the back of the store, Byleth meandered around the beer fridge, unaware of the exchange at the counter where Dimitri stood. Once the magazines were paid for, he deposited the stack into his arms, calling to Byleth across the store, “I’ll be right back!”

“Okay.” Her voice was distracted as she inspected any possible purchases. Upon making sure that she wasn't paying attention, he carried the stack outside, making his way to the trash can. Opening the lid gingerly, he dumped the magazines inside. On the cover of one magazine that lay on the pile, his face, blurry and irritated, reflected back at him.

‘ _The Prince Leaves for College - But Where?_ ’

But where indeed? Uncle Rufus had been hard at work to avert the gaze of the paparazzi. The picture was of him walking from the palace, his face turned and looking serious as he made his way towards his town car. He remembered that afternoon and his sheer annoyance at the cameras.

His odd habit that had formed was buying magazines, every one of them in each store he entered. If Byleth was near, he would do his best to avert her gaze from the tabloids, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t recognize his face on the covers. 

He wished that they would give up already. He had been gone for months, his social media team and his uncle the King Regent himself both working endlessly to set up the false image of Dimitri going to college in Almyra. Far away. Far from where he actually was. 

He closed the lid to the trash can, and wiped his hands off on his jeans before going back into the store. The clerk looked at him like he was a madman, but he ignored it as Byleth approached with the pack of beer. 

Fortunately, the drinking age in Garreg Mach - a country that was separate from the others in Fodlan - had the age limit for alcohol buying at 19. Faerghus's legal age happened to be 16, so this was nothing new to Dimitri, yet it still had been a rare occasion where he was ever even allowed to drink in the first place.

Byleth paid, while Dimitri scanned the magazine racks for his face. She eyed him amusedly, “You sure do love those tabloids, don’t you?”

“Quite the opposite,” he stood up straight, sending her an innocent smile, “I hate them with a fury.”

“I do too,” she opened the door, holding it open with her foot as he passed by, “it’s all just lies.”

As the two approached his car parked in front of the gas station, he took the pack of beer from her hands and carried it. He put it in the empty backseat, and climbed into the front as Byleth slid into the passenger side. 

“Thanks for giving me a ride. It’s only a few blocks away, though, I could’ve walked.”

He thought of No Scrubs. He would not allow someone to hang out of the passenger side of their best friend’s ride, trying to holler at her. No, she would not walk when he could so easily have her at his side in his car. 

“It’s fine,” he buckled his seat belt “I’m happy to help.”

Perhaps, his underlying intention as well was to catch a glimpse of her mysterious father. He was driving her to his apartment, anyhow, there was the chance of him waiting out front to meet his daughter. 

“I’m just so happy to have the day off,” she informed, closing her eyes and adjusting the air conditioner so it blew the tendrils of hair across her face back, “I’ve been meaning to spend some time with him lately.”

“I’m happy for you too, hopefully I’ll get to meet him soon.”

She opened her eyes, and paused. 

Silence fell between them, and Dimitri could only keep his eyes on the road and wonder what he had said. 

“I don’t think… that’s a very good idea.”

Preposterous. “Why?”

“He’s just… really protective.”

“I’m not a monster planning to eat you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shifted uncomfortably, “he’s a cop, you know. He has guns, like everywhere. Even when I brought Annette to his apartment to meet him, he had a gun out on the table and was quizzing her. It scared the crap out of her.”

He imagined that it would. To quiz even the small and kind Annette, he had to be quite the man. “Why’s he like that?”

“We’ve just been taken advantage of before, and he’s afraid that it’ll happen again," she sighed, "I worked really hard to get my scholarship, and he’s afraid that someone might get a bug up their ass about me, and try to take it away.” She shrugged, “At least that’s what he says.”

“He must be pretty serious about you."

Dimitri thought of Annette. If _she_ was threatening to Mr. Eisner, he wondered what sort of response _he_ would garner. Dimitri, in the black BMW and designer shoes - that his uncle had sent him, of course, he could care less about those types of things. Despite his lack of vanity, he still had no trouble affording his textbooks. He was well fed and never worried where his next meal would come from. He and Byleth were complete opposites in those ways. If he could assume _anything_ about the type of man Byleth’s father seemed to be, Dimitri knew that he would entirely, completely, raise every alarm bell in his mind simply upon first glance. 

_Splendid_ , he thought sarcastically as he parallel parked in front of her father’s apartment building. _Just_ _wonderful_ , he’s totally the type Mr. Eisner would love to see his daughter hanging out with. 

Once parked, Byleth swung her bag over her body and unbuckled her seat belt, the noise drawing Dimitri out of his reverie. “I’m gonna grab the beer in the back.”

“Do you need help carrying anything up?” He began to unbuckle himself, and she stopped him with a quick hand. She was already standing out of the car door, leaning inside and looking at him with wide eyes. 

“No, no, don’t. Dad’s right there.”

It was almost like a warning. 

Mustering up his boldness, and reminding himself of just how dark his windows were tinted, he dared to look.

Mr. Eisner stood at the front door. The building was not the fanciest, but it didn’t look like too bad of a neighborhood, especially with the intimidating man in the police uniform staring his car down as if he’d been caught speeding in a school zone. 

The windows were too dark for Dimitri to be seen, but he felt as if Mr. Eisner was looking right through him. 

His hair was half shaven, with a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. He looked nothing like Byleth, oddly enough. His face was sharp, laugh lines carved onto the side of his mouth, and visible wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. His nose was straighter than his daughter’s, his jawline more chiseled. Byleth must’ve taken after her mother with her soft, fae-like features. 

She snatched the cheap beer from the backseat, shutting the door behind her and half-jogging to meet her father. His stony expression dissolved to reveal a big smile as he held his arms open to greet her. She set the beer down, and melted into his hug. 

He looked kind enough, holding his daughter as if she was his entire world. Dimitri decided that he would make the move, he’d take the first step, and hope the landmine wouldn’t blow up in his face. 

He opened the door, turning off his car and stepping out. Mr. Eisner stiffened, eyes opening and staring straight at Dimitri over Byleth’s shoulder. 

He let her go, straightening up and narrowing his eyes at the boy standing before him. Byleth pulled away, and looked at Dimitri as if he was crazy. Perhaps he was, perhaps he was just truly presumptuous to assume that Mr. Eisner, or Byleth even, would want them to meet. 

“Hello,” he took several steps forward, holding out his hand and trying to smile in the best way he could, “I’m Dimitri.”

Mr. Eisner’s grip was strong, unwavering and tight. He didn’t shy away from him, even when Dimitri’s hand stung from the shake afterwards. The man before him was casual, frowning, but not angrily. Merely studying the boy. 

“Dad, Dimitri’s from my study group,” Byleth informed carefully, “He’s a good friend.”

Mr. Eisner didn’t acknowledge it, instead flickering his eyes to the car parked behind them, and then up and down Dimitri’s body. He suddenly felt self conscious, as if he should’ve made an attempt to be less lame. Perhaps he should've left the sport jacket and sweater vest behind. 

“Call me Jeralt.”

That was a step forward. Relieved, Dimitri exhaled. “Okay, Jeralt, it’s nice to meet you-”

“Who bought you that car?”

Relief turning into confusion, he glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, my uncle-”

“What’s your last name?”

The questions were like shots being fired. He could only grimace, thoughts scrambled, “I’d... rather not say.”

“Why?”

“I’d really just rather not.”

Jeralt raised a brow at Byleth, who only shrugged. 

He turned his attention back, looking serious, “You got a job?”

“No,” he spoke slowly, carefully, “I’m focusing on my studies right now.”

“Who paid your way into Garreg Mach?”

“My family... excuse me, but I really don’t see how any of this matter-”

“What do you want with Byleth?”

There it was, the golden question. Byleth herself tensed, and looked away, almost embarrassed to be the subject of her father’s protectiveness. Dimitri felt defensive on her behalf, wondering why Jeralt would think he could build such a wall around her, as if he owned her. 

“I’m her friend,” he answered stiffly, “I care about her.”

He leveled him with a gaze that looked nearly bored, as if he had better things to do, “I care about her too, kid. Listen, I’ve been around these parts my entire life, and I know how the people at that college are. Byleth is…” 

They both eyed the girl, who blinked in confusion. 

“She’s _trusting_. I don’t want to see some rich snob trying to ruin her education just because she doesn’t have money.”

To assume that Dimitri would ever do such a thing, all based on appearances and what kind of car he drove. Now fired up with passion, he defended her, “I don’t either! And if I ever _do_ hear of anyone doing that, you’ll be the first to know, Mr. Eisner-”

“Jeralt.”

“Jeralt. I care about your daughter, believe me," he entreated, "She’s one of the closest friends I’ve made so far. I… I never really got a chance to make friends before now, and I’m happy if she even gives me an _ounce_ of her time.”

_Happy_ was an understatement. He was thrilled, over the moon when she would choose to be with him. He had never felt that way, never felt such passion for defending someone. He exhaled, letting out the breath he didn't realize he held. Jeralt eyed him, and his frown slowly melted into a smirk, his eyes sparking with amusement at the boy’s show of fervor for his daughter. Byleth smiled, and Dimitri found himself returning it, their gazes locking in an unexplained emotion. 

“Last question.”

Jeralt caught his attention. Dimitri stiffened, ready for the quiz to finally end. 

“Are you in love with my daughter?”

_Yes_.

Despite the 'yes' ringing through his mind, Dimitri could only squint and open his mouth, yet no words came. What kind of assholery was this? What kind of man simply asked such a heavy question out of the blue? He stared, silent, lips parted, brows furrowed, and eyes squinting - looking quite dumb. 

“Answer the question, kid.”

It seemed that Byleth’s mind had fried as well. She recovered more quickly than Dimitri, who was mentally cursing Jeralt with every swear he knew in his limited profanity vocabulary. She gripped Jeralt’s shirt, frowning and attempting to push him back into the building. 

He was unfazed, only breaking from his serious expression to laugh at his daughter and rub the wrinkles from the front of his uniform. Byleth held up a fist, though it was more playful than anything, the pink on her cheeks betraying every emotion and thought running through her head. “I swear to Sothis, dad, if you don’t get back into that building and leave Dima alone, I’m not giving you any beer.”

The beer, of course, the beer. Jeralt’s amusement wavered. 

Dimitri was musing, thinking, brainstorming. If he said _yes_ , what would happen? Jeralt might kick his ass, _might_. Or perhaps Byleth would gasp in surprise and kiss him. As if that would ever happen. 

What most likely would occur if he said yes would be one of three things. 

Byleth might run away.

Byleth might think he’s joking.

Byleth might get angry.

Dimitri wanted none of those. There was only one possible answer, and it was rolling off his tongue before he could think of the consequences. 

“I love her like a friend.”

If a lie could kill, he’d be dead. If a lie could dig a hole for him to die in, he’d be six feet under happily.

How he managed a polite smile while his gut twisted in anger and regret, he was not sure. Yet, he had always been wonderful at poker, his face betraying nothing. 

“Well,” Jeralt cleared his throat, now done with the quiz and waving the white flag between him and Dimitri, “that’s good, kid. Keep an eye on her for me.”

It happened so quickly, Dimitri had barely a moment to comprehend her response. Byleth wouldn’t look at him. She grabbed the beer off the ground, cradling it in one arm and linking her other with her father’s. “Goodnight,” she said it aloud, keeping her eyes ahead of her. 

“Have fun.” The words coming from Dimitri’s mouth were cheerful, yet received nothing in return. Not even a glance. Byleth and Jeralt turned to go back into the building, Jeralt waving a casual, bored hand at him as he retreated with his daughter. 

Dimitri watched their backs until they were out of sight behind the glass doors. 

It was his chance, yet he was the ant between the rock and the hard place. He was sure that if he had told the truth and said yes, the result would’ve been much, much more of a disaster than they already had been.

Byleth’s face had been unreadable. She was trying to keep a blank expression, but had turned her head away from his. Dimitri searched his mind, his memory, for anything that would’ve given away how she felt about his response. 

Most likely happiness, he decided. She was probably thrilled that he felt the same way, that he knew they were just friends. Yes, that was it. 

Satisfied with his answer, and ignoring the stabs of anxiety in his chest, he returned to his car. 

There was no reason to be distraught, he reminded himself. He had just agreed with what Byleth had told him the other day. A wonderful friend, he was a wonderful, very good friend. 

He could not dim the fire of anger at himself that burned in his stomach. Attempting to ignore it, he started his car, and sped off into the evening. 

* * *

It was hours after her father had met Dimitri, yet Byleth couldn’t stop the rewinding of the conversation in her mind. 

He cared about her. Wonderful, that was nice to know. 

She was one of his closest _friends_. Not so wonderful. 

Yet, it would be fine. She huffed, remembering how absolutely terrible it felt to have a friend who just insisted upon being in a relationship. She would not be that person, she would keep her friendship with Dimitri if he wanted it, and not throw an absolute fit over wanting more. No, she would behave herself. 

She lay on Jeralt’s couch, curled up under a blanket that smelled like him. He had already retired to his own bedroom hours ago, yet the glow of his tv screen still flickered under his door. It was not in this apartment that she had grown up. After moving out, Jeralt had sold their small home in a suburb outside of town and moved into the city to be closer to work. It was fine, she wasn’t so sentimental as to miss her old room, though her old bed was much comfier than this couch. 

The room was dark around her, and slightly spinning from the beer they drank after their dinner of pizza and old movies. She held her phone close, the blue light from the screen illuminating her face. 

With her roommates, Dorothea and Leonie, she had a group text that mainly consisted of complaints about the plumbing or what groceries were needed, yet Byleth knew that both women were always waiting for updates on her and Dimitri. Leonie pretended that she didn’t care, yet Byleth would frequently hear her gossiping with Dorothea on the status of their roommates love life. 

‘He admitted today that we’re just friends’ she texted to the group, glaring at the screen.

After a moment, Dorothea began typing, a few seconds passing before her message popped up, ‘how do i dislike a message?’

Leonie was typing next ‘press f to pay respects’ 

Dorothea, ‘F’

Byleth decided to divulge further, ‘he met my dad today and dad asked if he was in love with me. He said that we’re just friends’

‘Your dad is hardcore’ from Leonie.

He was indeed. The sheer humiliation she felt from having her father ask the man she loved ‘Are you in love with my daughter’ was enough to heat her up like a furnace. She had ripped into him furiously after entering the building, and Jeralt had apologized hours earlier, yet the memory still prodded at her mind endlessly. 

She left it at that, waiting for Dorothea to finish typing. She would frequently send incredibly long messages, whether they be complaints, drunken rambles, or her opinions on climate change. Dorothea could type quickly, and compose an entire novel on her phone in the group chat. 

She had informed them, as she knew her roommates would require, and was too tired to continue with anymore details. Her head spun as she closed her eyes and set her phone down, attempting to stop thinking about the conversation just for one brief moment. 

It would not leave her alone. 

“I hate boys,” she announced to the dark room. The room did not reply. 

Did she really hate Dimitri? Never, obviously, she could never hate him. Even if he was a clueless nerd. 

Her phone lit the room. She glanced at the message from Dorothea, a long rant about how Byleth could do so much better, with several paragraphs of men she knew that she could easily be introduced to. She shut her phone off, deigning to reply in that moment. 

She didn’t want other men. She wanted Dimitri, with his stupid haircut and his stupid muscular arms, his stupid straight nose and stupid high cheekbones. His stupid lanky height and his stupid sense of humor. His stupid black tshirts and his stupid nice shoes. His stupid way he played rugby and his stupid way that he smiled at her when she caught him staring. The lists of stupids could go on endlessly if she allowed it. 

Groaning, she rolled over on the couch, burying her face into the pillow, repeating herself, “I _hate_ boys.”

From Jeralt’s bedroom, he yelled through the door, “I do too!”

She groaned in annoyance, “You’re not part of this conversation, dad!”

He only laughed. Byleth groaned once more, and forced herself to think of nothing. Her thoughts were scrambled already, yet every one seemed to surround the conversation. Anxiety played her like a record, and she despised every minute of it. 

I am going to sleep, she thought. I am going to sleep, and I will dream of nothing. 

Byleth proved to be her own worst enemy. She dreamt of Dimitri, of his smile, of his hands holding her waist. She awoke with a curse for herself on her lips, wishing to be free from the chains of her emotions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I actually made The Playlist on my personal spotify. Don't look at my profile because it's a mess, but here's the playlist if you're curious! See if you can pick out which blue lion contributed which song.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5lpKoSTyVbdydO9xM5FT3W?si=pxP0wpplQEKx8zAu1RACyA
> 
> It should work on phones, no app required. I'm using a chrome book and it just takes me to the home page on spotify, I think it's just my device. If you have the same problem and you just desperately want to listen to it, try it on a phone or tablet and it should work better!


	3. Take A Slice

_Wake me when the bell rings_

_I'm gonna sleep 'cause you live in my daydreams_

“Take A Slice” - Glass Animals

“You need to take her on a date.”

“...Oh?”

“Maybe Mcdonalds?”

“Mcdonalds, you say?”

“Or is she more of a Burger King lady?”

“Truthfully, sometimes I think you spout nonsense just to get a reaction.”

Of all places. Of all _people_. The first time Dimitri had been inside of a Mcdonalds was 11:32 p.m. on a Thursday night. Felix was drunk off a butterscotch flavored whiskey - slurring, he informed the crowd that the taste reminded him of Annette - and had a very serious craving for soggy french fries. Dimitri had snuck one that had rolled to the bottom of the bag, yet he chewed it with a sour, rather confused look. It was made apparent that he had not grown up on the greasy fried delicacies as his friends had, and was thoroughly unimpressed with the beloved fast food establishment. So, no, he would _not_ take Byleth to Mcdonalds for a date. 

Sylvain would argue the dignity of his favorite fast food all night if given the chance. Despite the nostalgia stealing his friend’s sense of propriety, Dimitri would never even _dream_ of taking Byleth to Mcdonalds for a date, which was entirely beside the clear fact that there would not be a date in the first place. 

Not then, nor in the foreseeable future. _Never_. 

Dimitri’s understanding of the matter dissolved into two simple reminders that ate away at him like acid. They stung his heart and his throat and reminded him of it every time he spared it a second thought. The understandings, the excuses and explanations, were these: Byleth Eisner didn’t like him, and secondly, he had lied about not liking her in return. 

“I’m just giving you a suggestion, dude.” Sylvain crossed his arms and leaned back onto the bed like a petulant, lectured child. His romanticisms continued to be unappreciated by his surly roommate across the dorm.

“There’s nothing I can do,” Dimitri feigned his best expression of boredom while flipping through a thick paged textbook, “It is what it is.”

A scoff, “I hate that phrase. _No_ , it’s not. Just take it back. It’s that easy.”

_It’s that easy_. Life may be so simple to Sylvain, who has the charms and the wit to glide through relationships as if they meant nothing. Dimitri felt the complete opposite. He continued to ignore the nagging from his roommate and scanned the page, the semantics of human biology commanding him to learn and burn into his memory for the test coming up, yet all he could think of was messy dark hair in a loose bun. Eyes so observant they bore through him. The look of relief when he told her father that they were just friends. Byleth. Byleth. Byleth. 

“How would that sound?” He challenged, eyes on the page,, “How awkward would that possibly be? ‘Oh, Byleth, I was just nervous because your dad is super intimidating’.”

“That’s fine!” He was excited now, “Be a coward, it makes girls think you’re sensitive!”

“It’s not a matter of cowardice,” he sighed and looked up at Sylvain across the room, “it’s a matter of it being _incredibly awkward_. It would be unnatural to just bring it up randomly.”

“Then _make_ it natural.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

A sigh, coupled with a tired wave of his hand. He rolled over in his bed and rested his cheek in his palm, “You need a ‘growth mindset’ Dimitri. You need optimism.”

The advice, said so condescendingly, poked at his nerves and dug into his skin. He resisted the growing scowl on his lips. Recently, Sylvain had joined a volunteer group in an attempt to meet more women, and while he had not done so, he’d learned a few extra phrases that he deemed ‘motivational’. His latest favorite had been something called a growth mindset, and he handed out the advice like freshly baked cookies. 

Sighing, Dimitri stretched to retrieve the Switch at the end of his bed. He held it over the textbook, it’s screen far more interesting than studying. “I’m simply being realistic.”

Giving up, Sylvain rolled his eyes and fiddled with the frayed strings on his hoodie. The tune of Animal Crossing filled the space between them, and Sylvain lit up instantly, “Have you gotten five stars yet?”

Dimitri plopped back onto his pillow, textbook crashing to the floor beside him carelessly, “No.”

“Weak.”

His knee bounced anxiously. Sylvain crossed his hands over his chest and stared up with a blank expression. The word hung in the air between them. _Weak_. 

“Don’t say it like that,” he defended, “I just don’t want to clutter my town.”

“You’re just scared of change.”

“I love change,” he scoffed, “Since when did you become a psychology major?”

“I dated one a week ago, I think I know stuff.”

Of course he did. Rolling his eyes, he went back to pulling weeds. In his own bunk, Sylvain flicked and fiddled with his hoodie ties and hummed in the back of his throat, going on to fill the beat of annoyed silence, “I just think you should be honest with Byleth.”

Another sigh. His palms felt clammy. “I saw how she looked when I said we were just friends. She was relieved.”

“You’re not the best at reading faces…”

That much was true, but he knew Byleth’s face. He’d studied it so often, far more than any textbooks. “I know what I saw.”

“You’re just scared to admit that you might fail.”

“Yeah,” he set the Switch down, staring at the ceiling, “of course I’m scared, Sylvain.”

He shifted onto his side once more, “What’s the worst thing that could happen? She says no, so what? You can still be friends.”

“It’ll just be odd…” a heavy sigh from his head to his toes, “I value her friendship, but I’m just afraid she’ll look at me differently when she knows how I…” am absolutely in love with her, “feel for her.”

There was also the small fact that her father looked at him as if he was trash on the sidewalk. And the other, slightly larger fact, that he was the prince of Faerghus and if he dated her then it would be with marriage in mind. Marriage meant the eyes of the entire country on her. On Byleth. On Dimitri and Byleth together, as a couple and future King and Queen. 

That was terrifying. 

And she had no idea who he truly was. 

Sylvain was quiet as he stared across the room. Lost in thought, Dimitri ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. “And if it turns out that she does return my feelings, then that’s far more complicated.”

Sylvain furrowed his brows, “Aren’t your parents like mob bosses or something?”

“...In a way, yes. You could say that.”

“You could try, dude, you never know. It may turn out better than you think.”

Or Byleth will turn out like his mother and be blackmailed into submission for the royal family, eventually assassinated for being a danger to the image of the country’s rulers. 

Or so the conspiracy theories went. 

“It’s not a good idea.”

Sylvain let out a frustrated sigh through his teeth, “You could just keep it a secret.”

As if that ever worked out for anyone. “You’re determined to have me take her on a date, aren’t you?”

“I am!”

He had other motives, surely. Yet, Dimitri didn’t have the energy to question them. He kept his eyes closed with his arm over his face, opening his mouth to groan, “Where’s the cleanest Mcdonalds?”

Sylvain was up in a flash, his head banging against the wood overhang of the top bunk. He jerked away with a hiss while clutching his now red forehead. Through the scowl, his shock was evident, “Dude I was kidding!”

“I don’t…” He had to save himself from another lecture for his lack of humor, “I’ve never taken a girl to a fancy restaurant.”

“Well you don’t start with Mcdonalds!”

Dimitri sent him a nervous glance, “Where would I start?”

“Somewhere without a play place,” he shrugged largely, “But better than Olive Garden.”

Dimitri shrunk, “I like Olive Garden.”

“Dude,” he stared, “what happened to not taking her on a date at all?”

His own weakness for Byleth happened. The evening outside was stealing away the light, and the bulb in the dormroom ceiling light had burned out a day ago - with all three occupants being too busy/lazy to change it yet. The light of the console burned into his face as he thought of his reasoning. 

_Weak_. It was a joke on Sylvain’s part, but Dimitri had never possessed much humor anyway. “I’m just thinking idyllically.”

A dramatic gasp, “A growth mindset…”

If Felix was there Sylvain would be thoroughly pummelled. Dimitri looked at him with the musings of doing the pummelling himself, yet Sylvain’s encouraging, charming smile halted his train of thought. Despite the irritation, his friend’s support would never cease. It was one of the things he admired about him. 

Defeated, he set the Switch down on his stomach and stared up at the bunk above him. It remained empty, and it’s very existence was quite insulting. To think that the University thought they might fit four people into one tiny room was atrocious. The extra bunk above him was mostly used for storage, and so overcrowded that he feared it might collapse on him while he slept. 

It sagged under the weight. Dimitri squinted up at it, “We should clean up.”

“No,” spoken slowly, as if to a child, “We should focus on Byleth.”

“I don’t…” a heaving sigh and a pause. Dimitri felt as if he’d said ‘I don’t’ far too many times in one day. “I’m not sure how to do something about it. I dug my own grave.”

“You made a mistake, that’s all. You’ll feel better once you make everything clear between you two.”

How easy Sylvain made it sound. Just to apologize. For him to take back what was said in complete and utter confidence. It had been just a few days earlier when Byleth was the one calling him a ‘good friend’. 

Yet, was it so bad to be her friend? Dimitri’s brows furrowed and his fingers drummed, “Perhaps I should simply accept our friendship and start over with someone else.”

“You mean like,” Sylvain’s nose crinkled in thought, “go find a girl to date? A girl that’s not Byleth?”

His heart and mind formed a ‘no’ before he could speak. Every inch of him screamed to throw that idea aside, and even Sylvain held a hesitant, disbelieving look. Dimitri studied him, “What’s with the face?”

“Oh, I just,” his brows raised in surprise, “I can’t imagine you liking anybody else.”

“Am I that obviously smitten?”

“You’re head over heels, dude.”

“I don’t wear heels.”

“It’s an expressio-” Sylvain shook his head, “Nevermind. If you want my opinion - and I know you do because mine is the only one that matters - I think that you’re being melodramatic. You don’t need a new girl, Dima, you just need to backtrack a little.”

He pursed his lips. Turning his head to watch Sylvain, his eyes rested on his friend’s determined expression. “You don’t think I could woo anybody?”

“I know that dance, man, it won’t work.”

He wasn’t dancing, nothing about the situation was that graceful. It was more of a drunk stumble. “What?”

“You’re going to go on a date,” he waved a hand nonchalantly, “and everytime you look at that poor girl you’ll just think of Byleth. That’s not fair to either of you. You can’t forget someone so engraved on your mind no matter how much you drink, how much you smoke, how much you spend in a dark corner of a club. Be kind, man, just stick to Byleth and be the pining, pathetic loverboy that you’re meant to be.”

Oddly specific. Dimitri could only stare. “Pining… pathetic _loverboy_?”

Sylvain held his hands up innocently, “I’ve never told a lie in my life, man. I only speak the truth. Loving Byleth is what you’re best at.”

Dimitri’s lip twitched in amusement, “Sticking to what you’re best at isn’t much of a growth mindset.”

“Fine, fine. I said my peace,” He dug his headphones from his pocket and laid down to push them in, “but you’ll see I’m right soon enough.”

* * *

Dimitri hated to admit it. He loathed it. He despised it. 

But dammit. Sylvain was right.

“So, what do you do for fun?”

“I, uh, don’t really have fun.”

“College,” a sly smile and a giggle that bubbled across the table behind a dainty hand, “yeah, I get it.”

A nice girl. A sweet girl. Pretty eyes and a simple voice that offended nobody. Dimitri could only smile politely and nod with lips drawn together, “Yeah, it’s either sleep or studying.”

“Or both,” she tore the bread apart and placed the smaller half on her plate, “I sometimes sleep with a book on my head, I’m hoping some sorta osmosis will take place.”

She offered the other half to Dimitri. He took it gently and laid it on his own plate. The restaurant around them buzzed with an energy that seemed to dull their own by comparison. Yet, even without the restaurant energy, the awkward small talk and polite chuckles would’ve been stifling all the same.

“So,” she filled the beat of silence with a hum and nod, “Olive Garden. I’ve, uh, always liked it.”

“Me too.”

Another beat of silence. With Byleth, it was always comfortable. She wrapped him in a homey embrace the second he said hello all of those months ago. This girl was reaching so desperately. He felt bad for it. 

She tapped her fingers on the table awkwardly, “Tell me about your friends. I’ve seen you in the library a bit.”

Dimitri lit up. She lit up in response as he perked in his seat, “They’re all wonderful, really. I couldn’t ask for better friends.”

She twirled the straw in her drink around, “You’re friends with a lot of girls. I mean, I’m not insecure,” she put a defensive hand to her chest, “but they’re, like, all super pretty.”

Blankly, he shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Especially, that, uh…” she grimaced, “that dark haired girl.”

Frozen, Dimitri fell silent. The waitress approached with two bowls of soup and set them down on the table. He murmured, “Thank you,” and increased the avid avoidance of his date’s eyes. 

Did he even remember her name? It was something entirely too normal, and entirely too similar to a million other names he’d heard before. Not that that was bad, but it wasn’t Byleth. It didn’t tattoo itself on his brain and haunt his dreams. She leaned forward in an attempt to recapture his attention, “Byleth, right? She’s in my Social Economics class.”

“Yep,” he stared at his potato soup with a grimace, “Byleth.”

“Like I said,” she popped a piece of soggy bread in her mouth, “I’m not insecure, but she’s just, I don’t know, cool, I guess? Like, she once ate a 30 inch Toblerone in class once.Who even does that?”

Dimitri had helped her pick out said Toblerone, he knew the legend of her devouring it in Social Economics well. He smiled longingly, silent. She was carrying the entire conversation. 

“Anyway, I guess we should talk about each other,” she grimaced, “Sooo, your, uh, car was nice and clean. You must be a pretty neat guy.” It nearly sounded like a question. 

Dimitri felt himself light up without a second thought, “Byleth helps me clean my car and my dorm every week.”

She deflated, “Oh, how fun…”

“We usually sing 80s music and get ice cream afterwards. I help her clean her apartment as well, but that’s only on movie nights.”

He said this so rightly, so confidently. His smile spoke of adoration and sunshine. Again, his dinner mate reached for another subject change, “So what kind of food do you like?”

He wasn’t sure that question could be answered in a simple way. He chewed on the thought as he stirred his soup, “I’m a texture eater, really. Byleth makes the best mac and cheese, though, I could eat buckets of it.”

Deflation. She grimaced. “That’s nice.”

“I believe she uses this thing called ‘velveeta’, if you don’t know it’s this mix of different cheeses that originates from Faerghus-”

“I know what velveeta is-”

“And if we’re feeling especially healthy one night we’ll put it on broccoli.”

She raised her brow, uninterested, “Oh yeah?”

“Yep,” a confident nod, “Byleth and I go grocery shopping together a lot too, she’s introduced me to all these new things.” Yet, it was _he_ who introduced her to velveeta, as he would proudly recall. “Have you tried nutella? We’ll eat it out of the jar together sometimes. It’s wonderful.”

His date was staring at him as if he was a carcass on the road. Confidence deflating, Dimitri avoided her eyes, feeling under pressure as he stirred his soup a bit more anxiously. Soup spilled over the rim of the bowl and stung at his fingers, yet he ignored the pain and grabbed for a napkin. 

“You’re pretty good friends, huh?” She asked flatly.

Friends. _Friends_. He was her friend. “Yeah, we are.”

Dark eyes staring at him across a study table, dark tendrils of hair so delicately spinning around a finger as she taught him biology. He would fail the class, his tutor was too distracting, and his mind too occupied with thoughts of her. Byleth Eisner. The name still rang sweet on his tongue. 

Pining, pathetic loverboy. Sylvain was right. 

The bandaid needed to come clean off. “I, uh, I don’t think this will work,” Dimitri dipped his spoon into his potato soup and looked at her now gaping mouth, “I’m not feeling any connection, I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Olive Garden buzzed with familial energy. A group at the bar nearby laughed and tittered under the bright, happy lights. It felt wrong to drop such a bomb in such a lively environment. His nameless date could only stare with raised brows and parted lips in shock.

“O-Okay, that’s...” she reached around to grab her jacket off the back of the chair, “I’ll, uh-”

He held up an urgent hand, “Oh, you can stay and finish your meal! Really, I insist.” 

She halted in her gathering to slowly turn back around in herr seat. Awkwardly, slowly, and encouraged by him continuing to eat in silence, she dipped her spoon back into her soup and stared with a grim expression. Her bread lay half dipped in the creamy bowl, growing soggy. 

Sylvain was entirely _too_ correct for his liking. Yet, it would be foolish to not admit it - he couldn’t give a single inch of himself to another girl when Byleth Eisner flooded his mind with the fury of a hurricane. 

Dimitri had never spent such an awkward night as this one. It was only natural that the same girl egged his car the next day. He couldn’t blame her. 

* * *

The sourness of the green apple flavored sucker stung at Byleth’s tongue, and it matched her mood so perfectly. She bit at the stick and felt the crunch of candy between her teeth. A satisfying crack, with a twinge eating away at her gums. She grimaced while chewing. 

Annette was not having as much fun watching Byleth eat candy, as Byleth was having eating it. She simply stared, eyes wide. 

Another obnoxious suck of her candy. Byleth’s gaze flattened over Annette’s shoulder, causing the red head to glance behind her back in an urgent kind of fear. 

“By,” she spoke carefully, wincing as dark eyes flashed to meet her face, “you’ve been glaring at that wall for, like, half an hour now.”

Byleth merely hummed. 

“You’ve gone through four suckers. All…” Annette eyed the bag in disgust, “Green apple flavored.”

A grunt.

“How do you not have blisters on your tongue?”

“I do.” She did, they hurt.

“That’s unhealthy,” Annette covered her mouth, “what does this all mean? Is this some kind of omen? Like,” blue eyes widened, “are we all dying, or something? Foodstuff divination’s made a comeback, you know. I saw my horoscope in my oatmeal the other morning.”

“...What’d it say?”

“That Felix and I would break up.”

“Did you?”

“That’s beside the point.”

A frown barely masked by the sucker stick hanging from her mouth. Byleth’s gaze softened as she inspected her friend, who picked at a salad inquisitively. 

“This salad, along with your gross suckers, tells me something,” Annette closed her eyes serenely, “it tells me…”

The pause for anticipation always got to Byleth. She scowled as Annette put a graceful hand up, there was ranch dressing on her palm. “It tells me that you’re having boy troubles.”

Byleth’s gaze flattened once more,, “That’s silly, I don’t even _know_ a boy.”

“Dimitri?”

“He’s Dimitri, he doesn’t count.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to face the reality of him being an eligible bachelor.”

She cracked more of the candy between her teeth, “You sound like a grocery store tabloid when you say crap like ‘eligible bachelor’.”

Annette ignored her and waved her plastic fork with stern purpose, “I think you already _know_ he’s an eligible bachelor, and you’re just not confident enough to do something about it.”

Truth. Truth, laid out between them on the table like a dirty napkin. Byleth sucked air between her teeth and returned to glaring at the wall over Annette’s shoulder. “What if he doesn’t see _me_ like that? Then it’s not _my_ fault, but his.”

“He sees you in _a_ _lot_ of ways, By.”

“Oh yes, but not anything relationship-y.”

Annette offered the biggest eyeroll she could muster, “He stares at your ass, like, all the time.”

She froze, tingling with a mild excitement that only occurred when Dimitri was the subject in question. It was a terrible ailment, and she would give anything to set the feelings aside. “I... wouldn’t know.”

“I watch him,” she pointed the fork prongs towards her, “I see the way he looks at you. He doesn’t stare at anybody else’s ass but _yours_.”

Byleth pulled the sucker from her mouth with a sharp pop, “So butt staring is the only clear indication of romantic feeling?”

“No,” she was casual and airy, “but it’s an indicator of attraction.”

“Perhaps he’s thinking of other things. Sometimes I stare at Mercie’s boobs when I’m thinking about something.”

“Mercie’s boobs are great, _that’s_ why, but your butt…” she grimaced, “isn’t the best-”

“ _Excuse_ _me_?”

“It’s probably the best to Dimitri! But like, it’s not, ya know, _objectively_ great. It’s not like you just _have_ to stare because it’s so nice. So,” Annette spread her hands as if giving her master thesis, “Obviously, he just stares because he likes you.”

She unwrapped yet another green apple sucker as she disposed of the chewed remains of her last, “He said, very clearly, that we’re just friends.”

“Friends that hold hands.”

“We were ice skating.”

“Friends that share drinks.”

“I do that with everyone.”

“Friends that send snapchats while on the toilet.”

“I _also_ do that with you.”

“But you’re attracted to him!”

She crunched prematurely on the candy, sending her teeth ringing in pain. Wincing, she scowled at her lunch mate, “So what? That doesn’t mean we’re destined to be together! You can’t always get what you want,” she rubbed her cheek slowly, “and I’m just trying to resign myself. You’re making it worse, Annie.”

She softened. Looking down in shame at her salad, she poked at the lettuce with gentle remorse. “I’m sorry, I just… I just want you both to be happy.”

“I know.”

“...And I want you to kiss.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And… dammit,” finally, she looked up with a frustrated gasp and a whine that resembled a hurt dog, her eyes wide and determined, “He went on a date with someone!”  
  


The outburst attracted the attention of several tables nearby, yet Byleth managed to ignore them as she sat back in her seat. Her stomach churned as she digested the words and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. 

Her father came to her mind. Steady eyes, wrinkles built over time that seemed to never go away, and hands that were always warm. He told her, long ago, ‘don’t let them see you affected, don’t let them see you vulnerable’.

Byleth opened her eyes, unemotional. “So?”

Annette seemed about ready to blow up, a red haired bomb in the middle of a hipster cafe. “He was a total jerk. She told me everything! I helped her egg his car this morning,” a wicked smile on dimpled cheeks, “he literally just talked about you the whole time. I think it lasted like a total of 20 minutes.”

She wouldn’t take second hand gossip from the exaggerating Annette. Blinking, impassive, she offered a monotone, “That sucks.”

“Do you not get it though? He talked about you, and _mostly_ you, while on a date with another girl.”

A date with another girl. The reality of it stung at her stomach and boiled in her chest, rising to her throat just to get stuck in her windpipe and make her eyes water. She dug her teeth into the stick and sang the alphabet in her head, anything to distract her from the conversation at hand. 

“He likes you, I’m sure about it-”

A frustrated sigh, “What’s been up with you and Felix lately?”

Annette stiffened, “We’re talking about you right now.”

“I don’t wanna talk about me,” the shield began to fracture, and Byleth was almost pleading as she finally looked up to meet her eyes, “I’m resigning myself, Annie. There’re a million reasons why it wouldn’t work, and I’ll email you the list if you want, but please, just… don’t get my hopes up.”

The cafe hummed with gentle energy around them. Coffee brewed behind the counter and filled the space with nostalgic warmth, yet all Byleth felt was dread. The other tables went unnoticed in their typing, studying, and low conversations as the girls avoided each other’s eyes. 

Annette was never above an apology. It was a quality Byleth had always liked about her. “I’m sorry, really,” her hand rested on hers across the table, “I just care about you guys.”

“I know,” she felt as if she’d been saying that too much lately, “but I’ve thought about this a lot, and it is what it is.”

“Do you…” a hesitant pause, “really have a list?”

“It’s more of a spreadsheet.”

Disbelief. A wave of concern passing over her face. “The reasons why you can’t be together make up an entire spreadsheet?”

“Well,” she shrugged and dug into her purse for her phone, “yeah, I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Is there a chance you’re _over_ thinking?”

“I don’t overthink,” she turned the phone screen towards Annette, “read for yourself.”

She squinted and leaned in. Her hair fell over her shoulder in a soft curl as her eyes squinted and nose crinkled. Reading aloud, her voice was laced with confusion, “‘He’s rich’ - why is that number one?”

“I’m poor.”

“You’re weird,” she returned to the screen, “‘his car is too nice’ Byleth that’s so dumb.”

“Keep reading.”

“‘His eyes are too pretty’ and ‘pretty sure he knows the prince of Faerghus’. Why does that matter?”

“I can’t run in that crowd!” Her eyes widened in disgust, “Have you _seen_ me eat?”

“Good point,” she sniffed and returned to the phone, “Oh, I like this one, ‘his armpits never smell’. That’s a rare trait in a man.”

Byleth put a dreamy hand on her cheek, resisting her smile with every inch of her will, “And if they do, it’s like… manly. It’s like trees, and mountains, and bubbling streams. Like, like, when he goes on a jog he smells like-”

“Please stop.”

“I had to listen to you describe every scent you could pick up in Felix’s shampoo the other day,” she scowled, “he uses the most generic grocery store soap, and he doesn’t even wash his face, but I remember you saying that he _‘smelled_ _like_ _heaven’_.”

She spread her hands in defense, “We were actually dating. You’ve never even _kissed_ Dimitri!”

“That’s beside the point.”

“No,” gently, she handed the phone back to Byleth, “you’re just in denial. It doesn’t matter how much money he has-”

“It does.”

“What matters is _love_.”

Byleth leaned away and crossed her arms. She looked at the ground, watching a worker sweep absently nearby. Her stomach had subsided in it’s anxiety, yet the surprise of hearing about Dimitri going on a date stung her as sour as her candy. She could only hold back a scowl and close her eyes. 

“I wanna be realistic,” a deep breath, “you can preach about love all you like, but it doesn’t erase how our families would be from different worlds. It doesn’t erase how…” she opened her eyes and stared at her dirty shoes peeking out from under the table, “we were raised differently. No matter how much love there is in a relationship, some people are too different to be together.”

“You don’t think you could just…” she shrugged, “I don’t know, get used to it?”

Byleth mirrored her shrug, “Has Dedue gotten used to it? He’s still as uncomfortable as ever when Dimitri buys him food, and our childhoods weren’t much different from each other.”

It was only several weeks earlier when Byleth had introduced Dimitri to the laundromat. He stared at the row of washing machines with wide eyes, while Dedue took to the situation so perfectly. Dimitri could only watch as the two of them did laundry and sat in comfort on the scratched up benches, counting out quarters. ‘You’ve never had a machine at home?’ No, they both answered. Dimitri admitted that he had no idea where his clean clothes came from back home, they simply appeared in his closet. 

Byleth watched him sit and stare at the wall with an idea dawning like a sunrise over his blond head. As if Dimitri had just realized how little he had taken care of himself his entire life, and that realization seemed to slap him in the face. Dedue merely sighed and gathered his quarters as if he’d been _waiting_ for his best friend to have that particular epiphany. 

It was weeks ago when Byleth started the spreadsheet of nonsensical reasons why they couldn’t be together. While the sheet mostly consisted of petty excuses that mattered little, the truth was interwoven with the unimportant. Dimitri simply came from another world, and Byleth was not dumb enough as to ignore that reality. 

Plus, he very flatly informed her father that they were just friends. It was clear as day. 

“Maybe I’m being melodramatic,” Byleth offered after a beat of silence, “but I just don’t want to be hurt.”

“I get it,” Annette sighed, “I just don’t want you to close off completely.”

“He’s already confirmed that we’re just friends.”

“Give it time,” a comforting pat and smile, “you both just need time.”

“I just want it to be normal,” a final wave of her hands so as to close the subject, “we’re friends, and we’ll stay that way.”

Annette offered a hopeful look peeking up through her eyelashes, “Are you sure?”

“Entirely.”


End file.
